


Incomplete

by Perlelas



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Adventures in Xadia (The Dragon Prince), F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perlelas/pseuds/Perlelas
Summary: This is the story of a young person living in the Silvergrove. But this person is different from the other inhabitants of Xadia.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Incomplete

**Author's Note:**

> I have no really idea for a fanfiction. Don’t blame me. I am French and I have translated at best to share it. My writing style does not suit everyone, I agree. It's a start.  
> I love the universe of the Prince Dragon. Xadia, the Silvergrove, Lux Aurea... I will not quote everything, we risk to be there again tomorrow. ^^

She sat on a solid branch of a large tree, her knees brought against her chest, watching the life that animated under her blue eyes. Without her saying anything. Her discretion was such that no one raised their head, if only to wonder what could be this strange cat perched in the tree. 

Everyone in the village talks about the evening party for the full moon, where everyone will dance on this occasion. Listening to them talk about the party makes her heart growl with deep melancholy. At every party at the time of the dance, everyone will dance with someone. Everyone but her. A sigh escapes sadly through her nose, while she holds her head against her knees, wrapping her arms around them and concentrating on a meditation that became almost instinctive when she felt like that. Thinking of her breathing so that she would become one with the air, her stability so that she would become one with the tree, which has long been her refuge.

Time flows at its usual rhythm, until the evening. When she opens her eyes, there is no longer a soul walking before her eyes. Her mind wakes up slowly, as if to tell her that she should now change for the full moon party. That she would remain the time of the beginning of the party, then that it would be eclipsed at the time of the dances.  
When she was little, she liked to dance, alone or with others. But this time has long passed for her. It’s been many years since she danced to the point of not remembering the slightest step. 

She goes to her adoptive parents' house, busy preparing their children for the party. As usual, she avoids to cross them to avoid an interrogation on the reason of her late arrival and quickly goes up to her room to dress properly. Enough to look pretty, but not too showy to avoid attracting attention. While styling, she takes care to have a neat and simple hairstyle without managing to detach her eyes from her horns and ears smaller than her friends and the young elves of her age. She knows that her horns will not grow any longer, and that her ears will not lengthen any longer, because she is not completely like her adoptive parents or like anyone else in the Silvergrove. 

Her heart squeezes painfully tearing her a small tear, but hurries to crush it by hearing footsteps approaching her door. Blows are made there, Sairîn, her adoptive mother appears with a smile, delighted to see her ready for the party, and invites her to join them. She smiled at Sairîn, to make her believe that everything was fine, that she was coming. Sairîn has a sweet look blue, almost light turquoise look and silver hair styled in majestic braid. She loves her adoptive mother very much. But as soon as Sairîn left, her melancholy surfaced. Sometimes she wonders what Sairin and Angiel think of her. If they are really happy that she shares their life. In the depths of her heart, she is grateful to them for having adopted and raised her as their own child to have given her a chance to live a peaceful life of elven tradition and toil. But in her heart remains doubt mixed with uncertainty. Not really knowing where her place is. She envy many others already knowing what they want to do to improve the life of the village, or to protect it. They almost instinctively know where their place is. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t even know if she can be useful in contributing to life in the village. She then chases away these thoughts by lowering a large hood on her head, hiding in this way her little horns, her little ears and her hairstyle. 

Here they go to the big square. The children of Sairin and Angiel are impatient, as usual, and run everywhere with the hope and childish naivety that their danced and playful strides would make them move faster. Upon arriving at the large space of the festivities, Nira and Eriel stand a little more properly and begin to make landmarks on the various snacks under the supervision of Sairîn.

« Don’t you want to take off your hood ? » asks her nicely Angiel. « You have a nice hairstyle. It would be a shame not to show it. »

 _A rhetorical question_ , she thinks looking at the great elf with purple eyes.

« She’s not really that pretty. »  
« I’m sure of the opposite », he smiles. « Come on, take that hood off. »

Her throat tightens at the thought of carrying a hand to her hood to reveal her hair, her small ears and her small horns. She doesn’t want to take it off, but on the other hand, she’ll be the only one wearing a hood if she doesn’t take it off. Her attempt at discretion to make herself invisible will only make her more visible. She then carries a hand unwillingly to the fabric to fold it back on her shoulders. 

« It’s better, don’t you think ? »  
« Not for me. » she grunts.  
« So that’s why you kept your hood » concluded Angiel by crossing your arms. « Don’t get so attached to your horns and ears. They won’t grow anymore and that’s how it is, you can’t help it. »  
« But the others will laugh at me... »

Angiel opens his eyes wide by looking around them, without seeing a single look in their direction. 

« Really ? And who ? I don’t see anyone who would dare make fun of you. »

She recognizes this sweet way of speaking. Angiel seeks to reassure her.

« Because you’re here. But as soon as I’m alone... »  
« Pay no attention to them. You have little horns and little ears, that’s a fact, so what? You can’t change that. »  
« If I were a magician, I would have created bigger horns with slightly longer ears. »

This sentence triggers a gentle laugh to his adoptive father.

« Bigger horns and longer illusory ears, huh ? You’d feel better to look a little more like each other, certainly. But you wouldn’t be yourself. Not being yourself comes to be dishonest with yourself, and that’s not healthy. Neither for your mind, nor for your heart, and this will have irreparable negative effects on you. And what’s more: you are not a magician. Hey. Don’t make that face, please. »  
« But Angiel... everyone here knows where they’re going and where they are, but I don’t. »

The great elf raises an eyebrow

« Can you be more explicit ? »  
« I don’t know what to do. Where to go. Which direction to choose. The others already know if they want to be bakers, warriors, assassins, craftsmen... but not me. I feel like I’m just a dead weight, a burden that belongs nowhere and... that no one will want. »

The great elf listens attentively without saying anything, then thoughtfully tilts the head, the chin fixed on the back of his hand.

« Come with me. »  
« What ? »  
« Come on. We’ll talk a little bit further way. »

He waved to Sairîn to reassure her before heading towards a pool. The one that assassins frequently use for rituals before leaving for a mission. Both sit on the edge. First without exchanging a word, to listen to the animation of multiple discussions. 

« In normal time » Angiel begins. « Growing up and evolving in a society is never simple. You probably think it’s even more difficult for you because you’re different, but in reality it’s just an illusion. You say that everyone already knows where their place is in society: on one side there is truth, but on the other, no. Sometimes it takes time to find its rightful place. With time and experience. Do you think the assassins were born with all these reflexes and abilities? Of course not, it took them time, work and perseverance to become professional assassins. Do you think that craftsmen were born with all their best abilities? No. It’s like assassins: it took time... »  
« Work and perseverance » she ends.  
« Indeed, confirms Angiel. But you know: everyone has one thing in common. Something we’re born with, but don’t really know. We only get to know him over time, but we all know that thing. »  
« Which is what ? »  
« A knack. You also have a knack. A knack you can put into practice. Only you don’t know it yet. And as for finding your place, all you have to do is try. And if you can’t, know that all learning is done first by failure. Be patient. »

He comes around her shoulders to give her a hug and lull her. She lets herself be lulled. Angiel always knew how to comfort her in moments like these.

« There’s one thing I’d like you to do, he says. It’s to stop hiding in your tree. If you think I don’t know where you’re hiding. You’re wrong, my little girl. »  
« I’m not that little. »

He laughs at her to hear her growl like a cat.

« For me, you’ll always be my little girl. »

**Author's Note:**

> Has anyone guessed what this young person is ? :)  
> She is... an half-elf.


End file.
